Conversations With My Father
by calla lilly rose
Summary: Growing up, a boy needs his father.. if for no other reason than to learn how to be a man, and then a father himself. These are thoughts Ponyboy has concerning his own father, and the talks they would have had if tragedy hadn't taken away his Dad.


A/N - SE Hinton owns all rights to _**The Outsiders**_. I make no monetary gain from the creation of my work. Sad, but true.

**Conversations With My Father**

A Father's Day story, goes along with _Splintered Ties That Bind _and_ Braided Ties._

XXX

"Daddy, is my tongue green?"

Johnny asked me after eating some green popsicle, giggling the way young kids do. Then after I nodded, he ran off, laughing into the warm afternoon day. It was Father's Day, my _seventh_ Father's Day, when melancholy hit me for some silly reason. I dunno why.

Sitting here under the shade of this massive oak tree in my backyard watching my three boys - ages seven, five and two years old all running around, I was remembering times in my own youth. Times shared between just me and my dad. They were rare. After all, I was considered more the momma's boy of the three of us – my own brothers - Darry, Sodapop and I.

And looking back now, it was true. I did spend more time with Mom. Darry was always palling up with Dad for games of football, or fishing and hunting trips. Soda too. He'd pile right in Dad's old Ford, and they'd head off leaving me to forlornly watch them go from the windows.

"Oh, Little Colt, don't be so jealous," Mom would chastise me. "You'll have plenty of time to go off with your father. You just need more years added to your little feet first before you can head off into the wilderness with the big boys."

By the time I had the years, money was so tight that there were rarely any trips for us alone, and the few trips I went on usually involved the whole family.

When I was somewhere near the age of ten I guess, dad pulled out his old .22 rifle. My eyes had to have been huge, cause I still remember he started laughing.

"Ponyboy, son, this is a _real_ rifle... not like the BB gun you have. This will do lot's of damage if you don't respect it, and know _at all times_ that where you aim it, a bullet is going to go. Think you're man enough to respect it, son?"

"Yes sir!" I wanted to prove to my dad so badly that I could be old enough to go out with him that I'd do everything he told me to do.. down to the letter. Whether it made sense or not. I remember he showed me how to hold it up on my shoulder and look across the barrel, lining up the sights to make sure I had the target in the cross hairs. At first, he had me practice with a bullseye type of target. I lined everything up and pulled the trigger, sending off my very first round. It was slightly off center, but still very close.

"Wow, Ponyboy! You sure did good on your first shot. Not even your brothers did that well!"

That was the best day of my life, hearing those words. They were meant for _me_, and were _real_. My dad said them, and said them like he _meant _them. Elated didn't even begin to describe my joy. I was allowed to shoot off two more rounds, both dead center on the target. He looked at me with such pride beaming out of his brown eyes. He clapped me on my shoulder and I felt on top of the world. I'd made dad proud. Me. _I _did it.

Two weeks later, dad took me and my brothers out to the woods to hunt. It was my first trip on a real hunting excursion, and I was determined to make him proud of me again. Darry and Dad were all serious about it, Soda was more the goof. I smiled at his silly antics, but was keeping an eye on what Dad was doing. Suddenly, Dad and Darry both stopped, still as statues as a buck came out of the brush. Darry lifted his rifle, but Dad slowly put his hand on his barrel and lowered it some to the ground. "Let Ponyboy take it. It's his turn." They both looked at me, and I knew it was my moment. I took my stance and aimed, then squeezed off one round, dropping that buck with one shot. He was alive - then dead - in one instant.

"Great shot, Ponyboy! Excellent!" Dad cried out.

"Way to go, Ponyboy!" Darry echoed, a hint of surprise ringing in his voice.

"Yay. Ya killed a deer." Soda's words weren't exactly thrilling, but he had a smile from ear to ear just the same.

And I felt.... out of place. Proud, yes, that I had earned my spot as one of Dad's son's, but watching that creature fall because of me... well, surely there were_ other _things I could do with Dad... weren't there?

"You okay, son?" Dad had asked me later that night. He'd taken the deer to some butcher he knew to prepare the meat for us to take home, and must have noticed I hadn't said much.

"Fine, Dad." I had lied. I didn't want him to know how much killing that deer had bothered me.

For the next month or so, every time Mom cooked that deer meat, I would lose my appetite and not want any. Dad never noticed, at least I don't think he did, and it only left more for everyone else to eat, or for Dad to take to work for lunch the next day. To this day, I still don't eat deer meat.

And that moment passed, like all the other moments of life. I joined in with my brothers to play football during the fall and winter months, and in the spring we'd play basketball in the driveway. Sometimes - but not often, it would just be me and Dad for some one-on-one. He was bigger than me, better built and with large hands. Darry has those same hands... the type that can grip the basketball with just one hand. Inevitably, one or both of my brothers would come out and my alone time with Dad would be over, and I'd have to share him again. I guess Dad never saw my look of disappointment when I had to share.

"You're growing up to be quite an interesting young man, Ponyboy," he said to me one day when I was thirteen years old. "I can't wait to see what wonderful things you do. Your brothers, well, I can sort of tell what their specialties will be. Darry, now it's as plain as my nose that he'll go into building stuff. Sodapop.. well if he can't take something apart and put it back together, then he just won't be happy. You though, I still haven't figured you out. You're an enigma, that's what you are. I can't wait to see what path you choose in life."

He beamed at me, ruffling my hair and patting my back. Times were rather slim back then, as was the norm I was used to. The only thing we had plenty of was love for each other. Even Darry, who had graduated the previous spring from high school, couldn't afford to go to college full time. He lived at home just as he always had, and was working part time and attending college part time to try to earn his degree. Nothing was ever enough, but we all did what we could and made due with what we had. Our parents never asked anything from us until that year, just after Christmas, when Dad wanted to take Mom out for an evening on their own. The weather was perfect for an evening out. The sky was absolutely shining like diamonds, with stars of every conceivable constellation twinkling above.

"Now you boys be good and listen to Darry. We'll be back soon, but until we come home, Darry's in charge. Do as he says. Night, boys."

Dad opened the door for Mom and they drove off, the first time they had gone off to dinner in ages.

They never came back.

XXX

"Daddy, Patrick won't share!" Michael was pouting, as all two year olds do. I got out of the chair and went over to my five year old.

"Patrick, toss me the ball, please son." He did, and with the boys spreading out like bases of a baseball diamond, we played catch for a while.

My oldest, Johnny, can catch really well. He rarely misses a pass. My middle boy, Patrick, just loves anything having to do teasing his younger brother, Michael. And Michael, oh that boy just loves to be in the way. However, he's two, and that's what two year olds do. They've got a lot of time to grow up and be who they want to be in life.

"You boys need to start wrapping this up. I don't want any of my boys covered with mosquito bites and itching all night!"

"Awww, Mom! The fireflies are just coming out!" That would be Patrick. While I could easily corral Johnny and Michael inside the house, Patrick was harder. He wouldn't even notice the swarming of bugs on him if stars were out or if fireflies flitterred about in the night.

"Ponyboy, are you going to do something about _your son?_" Ashley asked me in a humorous yet demanding tone. He was always '_my son'_ when he wouldn't listen, which unfortuately, was often.

"I'll take care of it. You just get the others ready for bed." I cozied up to my wife, holding her snug in my arms and gave her a soft kiss on the lips.

"Ewww! Daddy's kissing Mommy.... on da lips!" rang out Michael.

"Gross! Dad, really! Aren't there laws against that sort of stuff?" bellowed Johnny from inside the house.

Ashley and I just smiled at each other as I held her close in my embrace.

"Have you had a good Father's Day?" she softly asked, not even trying to wiggle free.

Her words brought me back to my memories, and I loosened my grip, allowing her to stand free of my arms. "Yeah. I just... I dunno. I can't get my own dad out of my mind for some reason."

She gave me a look - not of pity, but of compassionate understanding. Nothing could turn back time, nothing could bring either of my folks back. So many things had been left undone. Advice on so many matters was never given. So many questions were left unasked. So many mistakes that I'd made – wishing he was the one there to nudge me back the right way, nudged instead by someone other than my father. A boy needs his father, if for nothing else than to learn how to be a man.

"Take your time." She gave me a kiss on my forehead and held me close for a moment, then called for Patrick to come in.

"Aww, do I gotta?"

"That's 'have to' and yes you do, little man." I called to him. He skulked over and headed in. "Go on, I'll be in in a few minutes." I watched him as he pouted a bit more. "Patrick?"

He turned to me and waited.

"I love you, son. I'm very proud of you." I bent down and gave him a hug.

"I love you too, Dad. Um, Dad, I gotta go pee." He wriggled out of my arms, and I shook my head and smiled as his little frame shot through the open door Ashley held for him.

"Don't stay out too long, Ponyboy. I don't want you eaten up with mosquitoes, either," she called through the screen door.

I turned and headed off to the corral, finding Zeus and saddling him up. "Come on, boy, let's go for a ride." I turned him over to a canter then let him choose his own gait. He loved to stretch his legs when allowed, and I rarely held him back.

If Dad hadn't died, I wonder how things would have been different. Looking up at the stars that glistened above, I thought of all the questions I've thought of over the many years since he and Mom died. Some questions were silly, others were very serious... and private.

"What did you eat that night?" Why I wondered that, I didn't know. It was, however, their last meal and even death row inmates get anything they want before they get zapped in the chair.

"What kind of music was your favorite?" Dad listened to all sorts of stuff, and could hum any Tony Bennett or Johnny Cash tune just as fast as he could snap his fingers to Elvis.

"What made you fall in love with Mom?" I often pondered that one. To me, it was incredible to think how anyone could _not_ have fallen in love with my mother. She was everything. Warm, compassionate, outgoing, talented. She was gifted with many talents, one of which was the ability to play the piano. She didn't just bang out tunes, her fingers created magic with those keys.

She could cook anything, and on any type of stove. Wood burning, electric, gas, - even on a campfire. We may have been poor but we were never hungry. Somehow, between Mom and Dad, we ate well.

Backing up some, I wondered when he fell in love with her. How old was she, how old was_ he_? And what did both sets of my grandparents think of the whole idea? Sure, I could do the math and knew how old they were when we were all born, and even how old they were when they were married.... but how old were they when they_ met?_ _How_ did they meet? Darry had told me he really didn't remember, and Soda could only say they met at the train station. I've wondered many times who was coming, or was it someone was going?

Questions. That's all I've been left with.

What was high school like for him? Awkward, like it was for me? I was thirteen when I got bumped to high school. The guys were all bigger, more developed.. in all ways, might I add. I was shorter, skinnier, and … well, puberty hit late. Being already a full year behind the average freshman was enough of a nightmare, and taking gym only made matters worse. The only thing that saved me, sort of, was I was a fast runner in track. I could run, so I was treated somewhat better for that athletic ability. That, and the gang kept me from being hassled too much. If not for them, there were a lot of situations I would never have gotten out of - or recovered from.

There are other questions, stuff I keep to myself but wonder about. Stuff like - it was well known that Soda was no innocent. Darry wasn't either, but he did manage to keep his exploits from becoming headlines. I was later than both of them, waiting until marriage and have stayed true to my wife. But did Dad play the field before marrying Mom? Is there, by some strange twist of fate, a remote chance that I may actually have _another_ sibling out there – one of course Dad knew nothing about? Wouldn't that just throw Darry for a loop, to suddenly not be the oldest!

What were his fears? What did he yearn for more than anything? If he could do one thing over, what would it be.. aside from crossing that railroad track, of course.

Zeus was getting fidgety, biting and pulling on the bit some. "Whoa, boy. I know it's dark. Come on, lets go home." Zeus knew this land better than I did, and if he was getting antsy to turn home, then it was time to turn home. I turned him and we headed back to the house, now just a speck of light in the distance. Hera was due to foal again, and even though the books all say the male horse doesn't give a care in the world about a new offspring, I didn't believe it. Zeus hated being parted from Hera just as I hated being apart from Ashley. Nationwide book tours usually did me in.

I wondered what Dad would have thought of the man I grew to be. A writer, an artist, part time professor at the college, and assistant track coach for the high school kids. I managed to get my Master's degree... although it was a struggle for a while. Married now for eleven years to a wonderful woman who knows every detail of my dark past, yet stuck around anyway. Educated in her own right. Mother to my three children. Although I'm sure he would have approved, still, I can't help but wonder what he would have thought of her? Of my home? Of our children?

"There you are! I was about to send out a search and rescue team for you. You okay now?"

She was waiting for me on the front porch, swinging softly in the hanging swing I'd put up for her. I'd find her out here about as often as she found me in the same place, just swinging and thinking in silence. I nestled her into my arms, feeling the warmth of her body against mine, not concerned about the summer heat now that the sun had gone down almost two hours ago.

Her soft hazel eyes searched mine for answers, but I wasn't sure there were any there for her. Tenderly she felt my face, running one finger down my cheek to my jaw then over to my lips where I gently kissed it.

"Your father would be proud of you, Ponyboy. You know that, in your heart, you do. You must. You are everything a parent hopes their child would be - successful, financially sound, smart, and a good father to three wonderful boys. I'm sure this next one will also know how wonderful a daddy it has."

My head nearly came off my shoulders as I turned to look at her. Her eyes were shining, brimming with tears as a smile spread over her lips. She took my hand and moved it to her belly, whispering to me, "surprise, Happy Father's Day!"

I knew that look in her eyes, that _particular_ twinkle, and felt my own tears of joy forming. Carefully massaging her stomach, I reached over and kissed her, my cheek brushing against hers - feeling our tears mingle as they fell down our faces.

"I love you, Ashley, so much and so completely."

I wonder what Dad would have thought of this?

XXX

Calla Lilly Rose


End file.
